


voltron group therapy au

by paranoid_parallax



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Ableism, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Autistic Keith (Voltron), Autistic Pidge | Katie Holt, Canonical Character Death, Chronic Illness, Chronic Pain, Emotional Manipulation, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, F/M, Gaslighting, Gen, Good Lotor (Voltron), Homophobic Language, Hunk & Lance (Voltron) Friendship, Hunk (Voltron) Has Anxiety, Implied/Referenced Drug Addiction, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Insecure Lance (Voltron), Keith (Voltron) Has Abandonment Issues, Kuron is Ryou (Voltron), Lance (Voltron) Has ADHD, Lance (Voltron) Has Self-Esteem Issues, Loss of Parent(s), Lotor (Voltron) Has Issues, M/M, Minor Hunk/Shay (Voltron), Mother-Son Relationship, Multi, Murder, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Past Abuse, Past Character Death, Past Child Abuse, Past Rape/Non-con, Past Sexual Abuse, Past Torture, Past Violence, Physical Disability, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Racism, Ryou & Shiro (Voltron) are Twins, Self-Esteem Issues, Shiro (Voltron) Has PTSD - Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, Socially Awkward Keith (Voltron), Therapy, Trans Female Pidge | Katie Holt, Transphobia, Zarkon (Voltron)'s A+ Parenting
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-30
Updated: 2020-01-12
Packaged: 2021-02-08 13:33:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,588
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21476839
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/paranoid_parallax/pseuds/paranoid_parallax
Summary: Twins Shiro and Ryou survived a kidnapping and escaped after nearly a year of torture, Lotor grew up in an abusive and dysfunctional home, and Allura's parents were murdered a few years ago. The four of them meet each other at a therapy group for PTSD.Best friends Lance and Hunk are holding each other to their plans for self-improvement, Keith has major abandonment issues stemming from his mother's lack of involvement in his life, and Pidge is dealing with the aftermath of years of bullying for her differences. They meet at another group dealing with self-esteem issues.(I don't have a good title yet lmao)
Relationships: Acxa & Ezor & Lotor & Narti & Zethrid (Voltron), Adam & Keith (Voltron), Adam & Shiro (Voltron), Allura & Coran (Voltron), Allura & Lance (Voltron), Allura & Shiro (Voltron), Allura/Lotor (Voltron), Curtis/Shiro (Voltron), Hunk & Keith & Lance & Pidge | Katie Holt, Hunk & Lance (Voltron), Keith & Krolia (Voltron), Keith & Kuron (Voltron), Keith & Ryou (Voltron), Keith & Shiro (Voltron), Keith/Lance (Voltron), Keith/Lance/Pidge | Katie Holt, Keith/Pidge | Katie Holt, Kuron & Lotor (Voltron), Kuron & Shiro (Voltron), Lance & Lotor (Voltron), Lance/Pidge | Katie Holt, Lotor & Shiro (Voltron), Ryou & Shiro (Voltron)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 61





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shiro, Ryou, Lotor, and Allura's first therapy session doesn't quite go as planned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lol where is the line between coping and triggering myself because I'm really pushing it with this fic tbh
> 
> but yeah watch out for the tags there's a lot of potentially triggering stuff in here.

Shiro awoke, as usual, in pain.

Rolling out of bed, he resignedly began stretching right away, warming up for his morning workout routine.

Exercise and healthy eating and such might be futile for him in the long run, as his body was steadily, painfully falling apart no matter what he did— but he could try to keep it in decent condition for as long as possible.

He _had_ to try.

After his morning run and an impressive amount of push-ups, he began making breakfast. Technically he didn’t need to be up for quite a while, but sleep was difficult.

Because of the excitement, of course. Not the nightmares or anything.

Today _was_ sort of a big day. A few weeks ago, Adam and Curtis had finally persuaded Shiro to go to therapy, and he’d dragged Ryou and a very reluctant Keith into this with him. They’d decided on group therapy— he and Ryou would be together, to his relief, and Keith would be in a different group.

He couldn’t say he was looking forward to it for himself at all, but he was excited for Ryou and Keith to finally get help, and if that meant he had to set an example, he would.

Suddenly, someone else shuffled into the kitchen, yawning and shielding his eyes, and made his way to the fridge.

“Keith? What are you doing up this early?” It was five-thirty in the morning.

“Late,” Keith corrected.

Shiro sighed. He should’ve known. “Get to bed,” he said gently. “Big day later.”

“Fine. Soon.” A pause. “Do I _have_ to go?”

“Keith, we’ve talked about this. You agreed.”

“Because the four of you outnumber me and you wouldn’t leave me alone about it.”

Shiro didn’t say anything more while Keith rifled through a drawer for a spoon. It was better not to argue with him. He was cranky right now, but he’d go later, even if he did complain the whole way.

“See you tomorrow,” Keith mumbled, ambling toward the door with his cereal.

“Today,” Shiro corrected with mild amusement.

Keith groaned. “Don’t say that. It’s disorienting.”

“No, your sleep schedule is disorienting.”

“_Yours_ is. How long have you been up? It’s barely even light outside.”

“I went to bed early.”

“Suuure you did.” Keith had turned back to him, and his expression clearly said he wasn’t buying it.

“Look, we all have things we need to work on,” he said awkwardly, avoiding Keith’s piercing gaze. “It doesn’t mean _you_ shouldn’t take care of yourself just because _I_ don’t always make the healthiest decisions.”

“I’m going to bed soon, Shiro. It’s fine.” He offered a small smile before turning to head back to his room.

Shiro felt a smile twitch across his own face in response. “Goodnight.”

————————

Several hours later, everyone else began gradually emerging from their rooms— Ryou and Curtis around eight; then Adam, who’d spent the night in their guest bedroom, around ten; and finally, Keith at one-thirty (only because Adam went to drag him out of bed).

After a rather late lunch, they began getting ready to leave.

Back in his room, Shiro paused in getting dressed, staring into the mirror for a moment.

For the millionth time, he wished he could undo the damage their captor had inflicted. He hated the enormous scar across his face, hated the attention it always drew, hated how the wound had permanently screwed up his breathing. Hated the phantom pains where the other half of his right arm had been, and the way people stared at his prosthetic.

He was so tired. He’d lost so much that he would never get back, and the physical damage wasn’t even the worst of that.

“Takashi?”

Shiro jumped and whirled around.

“It’s just me!” Curtis said quickly. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to sneak up on you.”

“It’s okay.”

“You’re crying,” Curtis said softly.

_I am? _Shiro reached up to wipe the tears away.

“Come here.” Taking his husband’s hand, Curtis led him gently over to the bed and sat down beside him.

“I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. It’s fine.”

“Hey. It’s okay. You don’t need to lie to me.”

“I—” His breath hitched, and he stifled a sob.

“It’s okay.” Curtis pulled him closer, letting him rest his head on his shoulder. “It’s okay to cry, you know. Just let it out. I’m right here.”

_No. I can’t. Stop crying stop crying stop—_

Shiro pulled away, struggling to steady his voice. “I’m sorry.”

“You don’t need to be sorry.”

“I can’t do this right now.”

“Takashi, please just talk to me. Don’t shut me out.”

“I’m sorry. I just…”

Moving a bit closer, Curtis tentatively began massaging his husband’s back and shoulder muscles, and attempted to change the subject. “How’s your pain today?”

“Oh, it’s great,” he said wryly. “More intense than usual. I think it’s getting stronger every day at this point.”

“Takashi…”

“Sorry. Just trying to lighten the mood.”

Curtis looked like he might start crying himself.

“Hey, let’s just get ready, okay? It’s fine. It might hurt, but I promise I’m not going anywhere for a while yet.”

His husband nodded, forcing a sad smile. “Okay.”

“Look, I know I don’t have forever. But it’s not like I’m going to die tomorrow. Or next week. Or next month, even next year. So please, just stop worrying about it. I can handle the worrying for both of us.”

“It’s not _fair_.” He was crying now. “It’s not fair that everything bad just keeps happening to you. You don’t deserve any of it.”

Shiro shrugged. “That’s just life, I guess.” He sighed, standing up. “I know this is hard on you too, but _please_ stop acting like I’m on my deathbed.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” He smiled, offering Curtis a hand and pulling him to his feet for a kiss. “Come on. Don’t wanna be late.”

————————

The five of them piled into the car— Adam driving, Shiro in the passenger seat so he had more room to stretch and move around if needed, and the others in the back with a sullen Keith in the middle.

“I’m proud of all of you for doing this,” Curtis said softly, reaching over the seat in front of him to rest a hand on Shiro’s shoulder.

“I’m just glad we finally convinced you,” Adam said. “About time.”

Ryou laughed. “I guess you’re right.”

“I’m always right.” He glanced into the rearview mirror. “Hey! Don’t roll your eyes at me, young man,” he teased.

Keith snorted.

“This is going to be good for you,” Shiro assured him. “Just give it a shot. If after a few sessions it really isn’t helping, we can stop.”

“Fiiiine.”

“We’re here!” Adam announced.

Shiro took a deep breath. “Okay, guys! Ready to go?”

“Sure, I guess,” Ryou said, climbing out of the car. Shiro and Keith followed, and Curtis moved up to the front seat.

“We’ll be back in an hour!” Adam waved, smiling at them.

Shiro leaned down for a last kiss from Curtis. “Love you.”

“Love you too. We’re just gonna do some shopping. It’ll be over soon enough, but get what you can out of it, okay? You deserve to heal.”

Shiro sighed. “Okay. I’ll try.”

The three of them headed inside as the car pulled out of the lot. After checking in at the front desk, Keith headed off down one hallway, and Shiro and Ryou went upstairs.

“You nervous?” Ryou asked. He might have framed it as a joking challenge, but Shiro knew the question was real.

“A little,” he admitted.

Ryou just nodded as he pushed open the door.

————————

Across the waiting room, a tall, imposing man with dark hair even longer than Ryou’s leaned against the wall with a sullen expression, cell phone held to his ear. “Okay, fuck off, _Honerva_,” he snapped into the phone suddenly. “You want to turn your life around now? Good for you. It’s decades too late for me, so stop calling. You had your chance to be a mother.” There was a pause as he listened impatiently to the voice on the other end, foot tapping slightly.

Shiro felt vaguely uncomfortable, like they were intruding. But it was a public waiting room— if the guy really didn’t want people hearing, he would go outside.

“Wow, amazing. Glad _you’re_ doing better now. Could you have maybe quit that stuff a little earlier— like, before you had me? Did I have to be in pain from the moment I was born?” Another pause. “Oh, yeah, you made up for it, alright. Leaving me alone with your shitty husband for my entire childhood— great parenting.”

Shiro noticed that the man was starting to look less and less angry, and more like he might start crying any minute. He tried to not look, but without appearing as though he was actively trying not to look. _Just be casual._ He pulled out his own phone and checked the time— three minutes until their session started, supposedly.

“Why the fuck are you looking at my medical bills?” His voice was ice, his tone dangerous. “How are you even getting those?” Pause. “It’s not your business if I’m in therapy.” Beat. “Just because you suddenly want to reconnect with us doesn’t mean I want anything to do with either of you.”

The voice on the other end of the line was somewhat audible now, clearly yelling, though Shiro couldn’t make out any individual words. “Leave me alone. I don’t know why I’m even talking to you. The only times you ever want to talk are when you’ve gone through my shit and you want some explanation, or when you want to pretend you’re a decent mother. Don’t call me again.” He hung up with visibly shaking hands, then slumped into a seat, suddenly appearing somewhat embarrassed and avoiding looking at Shiro or Ryou.

The twins shared a glance.

_Think he’s here for the group?_ Shiro texted.

_Maybe,_ Ryou replied. _Sure sounds like it._

_ Do you think we should ask? Introduce ourselves?_

_ He doesn’t look like he’d be thrilled about that._

_ Well, if he’s in the group we’ll be meeting soon anyway. It’ll just be more awkward later._

_ Yeah, I guess you’re right._

They nodded at each other. Shiro got up first and headed over to sit beside the guy; Ryou followed and sat on Shiro’s other side.

The man looked up at them somewhat suspiciously.

“Hi,” Shiro said. “I’m Shiro, and this is my brother Ryou. We’re here for a therapy group, and we were wondering if maybe you’re in it too? Just since you’re here at the same time and all, we thought—”

“The PTSD one?”

“Yeah,” Ryou said.

“Yeah. I’m Lotor. Nice to meet you.” He held out his hand, and Shiro hesitated before shaking it with his prosthetic. Leaning over his brother’s seat, Ryou did the same.

To his credit, Lotor didn’t say anything insensitive or give them any weird looks. It was always in the back of Shiro’s mind how strange they looked side by side, identical twins with identical facial scars and the same arm missing.

Sendak had wanted them to match. Did everything to both of them equally… well, almost everything. He shuddered.

“Shiro?” Ryou’s voice, sounding concerned. “Hey, man, you still with us?”

“Yeah. Sorry.”

Just then, the door swung open and a woman rushed up to the front desk to check in. “She’s probably here for the group too,” Ryou whispered. “Is it just four of us? I mean, no one else is here.”

Shiro shrugged. “I guess.”

A moment later, the woman walked over to them. Her hair was even longer than Lotor’s and intricately styled, with dangling purple earrings peeking out from beneath it. She wore a blue and white dress that fell just below her knees. “Hi, I’m guessing you guys are the rest of the PTSD group?” They all gave varying nods and yeses. “I’m Allura. Nice to meet you all.”

The door leading into the offices opened, and a man stepped into the waiting room. “Hello, I’m Dr. Ulaz. I guess you all are my five-o-clock group?”

“Yep!” Allura said brightly.

“Well, come on in.”

————————

First, Dr. Ulaz went over the rules of the group and some basic information about PTSD. Then they were asked to introduce themselves.

Allura offered to go first. “Well, we sort of met in the waiting room, but I’m Allura— what else are we doing? Name and…”

“You can say generally why you’re here if you’re comfortable, and if you want, you can give a fun fact about yourself or something.”

“Okay. Well, I enjoy gardening, and I’m here because my uncle thinks I need therapy.”

“Do you feel you need it?” Ulaz asked her.

“Well, I guess, probably. Doesn’t mean I’m thrilled about it.” She looked uncomfortable, evasive, and Ulaz let it drop.

“I’m Lotor.” He kept his eyes on the floor, bouncing his leg nervously. “I’m basically here because my parents are abusive and my childhood was a disaster.” There was an awkward pause. “Oh, and uh… I’m really into history stuff,” he added as an afterthought.

Allura’s eyes lit up. “Hey, me too!”

He glanced up, met her eyes for a moment, and smiled faintly at her.

The twins were next. “I’m Takashi, but everyone calls me Shiro.”

“And I’m Ryou. We’re entirely unrelated.” He looked completely serious. Then Shiro started laughing, and a moment later, he joined in. “Okay, yeah, we’re obviously twins. Here together, for the same reason.”

“We were both kidnapped, me first and Ryou shortly after, and held for almost a year until we escaped about six months ago.”

“What else… oh, fun fact. Uh, I love Dungeons & Dragons, if anyone’s ever interested in playing.” He laughed awkwardly. “Sorry, kind of a weird mood shift there, huh.”

“I’m in training to be an astronaut,” Shiro said. His face fell suddenly. “Or, I was. Before…”

“You’re still gonna do it,” Ryou said firmly. “You know Sam will vouch for you. This has been your dream forever, and you’re beyond qualified. They can’t just kick you out for something that wasn’t your fault.”

Shiro just shrugged. “They were on their way to getting rid of me anyway… not like I have that many years left.”

Suddenly, Lotor’s phone rang, and he nearly jumped out of his seat as cold dread shot through him.

“Sorry, I have to take this,” he said as he fumbled for his phone. He already knew who it was, the one contact he allowed notifications from even when the rest were on silent. If he didn’t, things would end badly.

He knew he wasn’t supposed to leave in the middle of therapy, but he had zero choice. Rushing back to the waiting room shakily— _shit, there’s other people in here now_— then heading for the stairs to go outside, he accepted the call, pressing the phone to his ear.

“Hey, Dad.”

“Where the hell are you? You were supposed to be home an hour ago.”

_Fuck._ He’d forgotten. “I’m sorry, I had to— run some errands. I’ll be home in an hour—”

“Don’t lie to me.”

“I’m not lying!”

“Watch your goddamn tone, boy.”

“Sorry, it’s just been a long day—”

_“It’s just been a long day,”_ Zarkon mocked, and Lotor cringed internally. _Do I sound that stupid?_ “All you ever fucking do is whine about how bad you have it. After everything I do for you— I’m the one who should be complaining, having to put up with this shit for twenty-one goddamn years.”

“I’m twenty-three,” Lotor said before he could stop himself. He hadn’t meant to say anything.

“Don’t fucking talk back to me! Do you think I’m stupid?!”

He panicked. “No! Of course not!”

There was a pause. _He’s going to kill me he’s going to kill me why I am so goddamn stupid— Is he waiting for me to speak? Or is he testing me to make sure I don’t? What am I doing wrong this time?_

“You’re out with those dykes again, aren’t you. They’re a bad influence.”

“Don’t call them that!”

“Don’t fucking tell me what to do.”

“Dad, I’m sorry. I’m really sorry, I promise, I’m not trying to start a fight. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I’ll get home soon.”

“You’ll get home _now_. I’ve waited long enough.”

“Yes, sir. I’m sorry.” He began walking to his car.

“Just like your crazy bitch mother,” Zarkon muttered. “She can’t OD soon enough.” He hung up, and Lotor sat frozen for several seconds before scrambling to start the car with shaking hands. _I should’ve known this was a bad idea. They’re both going to kill me over it. I can’t keep going, I’ll have to cancel…_

————————

After Lotor left and didn’t come back, the others were distracted. Even though she barely knew him, Allura couldn’t help but worry. Between his reason for attending and the sudden panic over a phone call, it wasn’t hard to put two and two together. Who knew what might be happening to him right now? She wished there was something she could do.

Or maybe that wasn’t it. Maybe it was something else, a relatively minor emergency that would be resolved soon enough.

Still, she couldn’t shake the thought that he might be in danger. If only she had his number, if only she could check in with him—

Why was she so concerned about someone who was virtually a stranger?

“Allura?”

“Hm? Sorry!” Snapping back to the present, she glanced around their small circle to see everyone looking at her. “Is it my turn for… something?”

Dr. Ulaz sighed, rubbing his temples. “This is why people aren’t supposed to skip or leave in the middle of the session unexpectedly. Now the rest of you aren’t focused.”

“Well, excuse me for being a little worried about the guy who says his parents are abusive and then runs out panicked and doesn’t come back,” she muttered.

Ulaz’s expression softened, and he looked slightly apologetic. “I understand, Allura. I think we’re all concerned about him. If it makes you feel better, I’ll be contacting him after this to make sure everything’s alright.”

“Well… okay.” Sighing, she returned her focus to the group. “What am I doing?”

“We’re sharing some of what we’ve been struggling with lately related to our trauma,” the twin with short hair— _Shiro, wasn’t it?_— said.

“Like, symptoms or whatever,” the other one added. _Ryou. I think._

“You can always pass if you aren’t comfortable sharing something,” Ulaz said. “But it’s best for everyone if you all participate as much as you’re able to. It won’t always be comfortable, but it shouldn’t be beyond what you can handle.”

She supposed this was sort of an intro session. How long could she avoid actually talking about what had happened? Hopefully long enough to convince Coran she’d done the therapy and he didn’t need to keep pestering her, and then she could be done with this whole ridiculous thing.

_ I’m _fine_, anyway. Why should I have to do this? I mean, I’m perfectly alright. Coran worries too much._

“Um…” She chewed her lip nervously. “I just get very anxious in… certain situations. Like I’m expecting a repeat of— well, like… I don’t know. You know? And I, well… I guess I just feel sad a lot?”

“Do you find that you avoid thinking or talking about the event?”

Allura narrowed her eyes at Ulaz. _What are you doing?_ “I guess?”

He nodded. “That’s a major symptom of PTSD.”

_Oh._

_Well, shit._

She kept her eyes nervously trained on the floor in the middle of their mini-circle while the twins spoke— turned out they hadn’t gone yet while she’d been lost in concern over Lotor. Good that she hadn’t missed their responses, she supposed. That would be rude.

She wanted to glance up at the clock, but didn’t want Dr. Ulaz to _see_ her looking at the clock, and if she looked up at the clock he would… How much time was left? She just wanted to go home and do something, anything else. Making her think about things she just wanted to forget seemed like a recipe for disaster— why had she agreed to this?

Shiro went next. “Uh, I get nightmares a lot. And flashbacks. I have memories missing, too, though, and I can’t remember chronologically when a lot of it happened.” He hesitated. “I’m not sure if this counts, but… I just often feel like my body isn’t really _mine_ anymore.”

“That’s common with some types of trauma, yes.”

Ryou mentioned flashbacks and memory loss too. “And, uh… I’m not sure if this is related, but think I might have anger issues?”

Ulaz nodded. “That could certainly be connected.”

Things went on fairly smoothly from there, as Ulaz explained some more about PTSD and they went through a short group activity. By the end, Allura was just pleased that she’d managed to get through the whole thing without digging into _that_ memory, if annoyed that she’d wasted an hour of her afternoon.

Next session was in three days. If not for her apprehensive curiosity as to whether Lotor would be there, she would have resolved to be conveniently sick.

————————

After saying goodbye to Allura and Ulaz, Ryou followed Shiro downstairs to pick up Keith. Their homework for next time was to try to identify their triggers, so he began trying to make a list in his head as they walked.

Not being able to see was a big one. The months of blindfolding, being locked in pitch-dark rooms, and otherwise kept from seeing what was happening had ruined his ability to even sleep with the lights off like a normal adult. That made sleep almost impossible at times, as it wasn’t exactly easy for him to fall asleep with bright lights on either.

Sharp knives, saws, and similar cutting implements… He shuddered at the thought, and it was all he could do not to instinctively cling to his brother.

There really were almost too many things to count. Certain smells, probably. Walking alone in public. Threats of violence. Being immobilized in any way.

Sexual assault. Sometimes even just mentions.

That was the part he couldn’t even tell Shiro about. To the best of his knowledge, for some unclear reason, it had only been him.

_Stop being stupid. It wasn’t even that bad, you know it wasn’t. You liked it, anyway._

_ Don’t think about it don’t think about it—_

“How’re you feeling, buddy?” Shiro asked quietly.

“I just… thought about something I shouldn’t have.”

“You think you’re still gonna be up for dinner after? I know Adam and Curtis wanted to go out to some restaurant, but if you aren’t—”

“No, that’s good! It’ll be good to get my mind off it.”

“Yeah. For me too, I think.”

Keith finally came out to meet them. “Hey.”

“Wow, you look happy,” Ryou noted. “What, did you meet someone cute?” he joked.

Keith just rolled his eyes, but Ryou thought he saw him blush slightly.

“How was it?” Shiro asked.

“Okay.” He seemed to be in a much better mood than he had earlier. "Where are we going for dinner again?"

Shiro sighed at Keith's typical vague evasiveness, but he was smiling.

————————

Lotor slipped in through the doors of his father’s house quietly. Setting his coat and bag down, he headed for the kitchen immediately. His father’s friends would be there at 6:30. It was 6:10 now. _Shit._

Not wasting another second, he got to work on dinner. At first it was difficult— he kept freezing and zoning out every few seconds, and he knocked various things over in his anxiety— but after a few minutes he managed to relax enough to get things done.

_Okay, almost ready. Just have to let it cook a bit longer._ He leaned back against the fridge for a moment to rest.

“What the hell’s taking so long?”

He nearly jumped out of his skin. “Dad! Hey. It’s almost ready, sorry for the wait.”

“You should be. You’ve got no respect for anyone else’s time. Everything just has to be about _you_, doesn’t it? Can’t even do the simplest things I ask of you.”

“I’m sorry. I forgot—”

“You forgot because you don’t care.”

“That’s not true!”

“Are you calling me a liar, boy?!”

“No! I’m sorry. I’m sorry, please don’t be mad at me, I didn’t mean to—”

“Stop crying!” Zarkon yelled, and Lotor flinched back. “Stop acting like you’re the fucking victim here. You don’t know how good you have it. Imagine if I’d left you with your crackhead mother.”

As much as Lotor hated Honerva, the way his father talked about her made his blood boil. He hated her for all the wrong reasons— hated that he’d presumably loved her once, hated that they’d had a child and that he’d been mostly responsible for raising it, hated what all his buddies thought of the skinny, feminine, biracial son she’d given him.

Lotor hated her because she was controlling, prying, and manipulative. Because she’d abandoned him and wouldn’t even apologize, couldn’t ever admit that she’d done _anything_ wrong. Because she’d hit him before. Because she always took his father’s side over his, even though _he_ was the one who’d actually cared about her.

Zarkon mainly hated her because she was a brown woman, and every time he insulted her it was aimed just as much at their son.

_Count to ten. Do not yell at him, you’ll make it so much worse. _“I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “Just give me a few minutes. It’s almost ready. I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”

“Give me your phone.”

“What?”

“Are you deaf? Give me your fucking phone.” He held his hand out impatiently.

Anger finally took over. “Okay, no. Dad, I’m _twenty-three_. I’m an adult, and I have people who need to contact me. You’re not confiscating my phone like I’m in fucking high school.”

“_‘I have people who need to contact me’_— because you’re just _so _important, aren’t you?!” Zarkon exploded. “If they really need to reach you they can go through me, unless you have something to hide?!”

“No, sir. You’re right, I’m sorry—”

“As long as you’re under my roof, you follow my rules. Give me your phone.”

Lotor handed it over.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hunk and Lance meet Pidge, and are then surprised when Keith shows up in the same group.

The smell of bacon and pancakes drifted into Lance’s semi-consciousness.

_Mm. Breakfast._

He wondered idly what time it was, and felt around for his phone to check.

_2:30 pm._

“Shit!” How had he slept so late? Sure, he had gone to bed late, but… so much time was gone. Had he missed class?

No, no. It was Sunday. Right? He checked his phone again— yep— and exhaled in relief. Even if he had nowhere to be for a couple of hours, it was hard not to fall into a conditioned panic over wasting time.

Time always seemed to be slipping away, every minute that passed another bit of time lost until the next deadline—

_It’s too early for this._

Deliberately shoving the pointless stress to the back of his mind, Lance headed to the bathroom and began his morning skincare routine.

When he finally finished getting ready and emerged from his room, it was 3:15. His roommate Hunk waved at him from the kitchen table, greeting him through a mouthful of food. “Hey, you’re finally up!”

“Yeah,” he said a little sheepishly, grabbing a plate. “Hey, this looks great.”

“Thanks! I bet you’re hungry.” Hunk laughed. “It’s like, 3 pm already.”

“I was up late,” Lance said defensively. “… And yes. Starving.”

“Ready to work on your self-esteem?”

He groaned. “I can’t believe I let you talk me into this.”

“Hey, you agreed. You were all about self-improvement a few weeks ago.”

“That was a few weeks ago.”

“Well, we’re going, so you better get used to the idea. I’m not letting you give up on this before you even give it a try.”

Lance sighed. “Fair enough.”

——————————

When they arrived, the waiting room was fairly busy. Lance wondered how many of these people were there for the same thing, and then opted to just distract himself by talking to Hunk instead.

That was easier said than done. Hunk seemed nervous, probably due to the crowded waiting room, and kept checking his phone and giving him brief, generic responses.

Sighing, Lance finally left him to whatever game he was playing on his phone and turned to glance at the person seated on the other side of him.

_Whoa._

A very cute girl.

Her long hair was messy, and she wore huge round glasses with thick lenses, and she just had on a hoodie and cargo shorts… but it looked good on her. And the _Voyager One_ hoodie might be a point of conversation, since he wanted to be an astronaut and that seemed to indicate at least some shared interest in space travel.

She was also on her phone, but he could work with that.

——————————

Pidge sighed in mild annoyance, texting her brother between glances up at the guy seated on her left.

**Pidge:** bruh this guy won’t leave me alone in the waiting room is he Okay

**Matt:** katie is he harassing u?? do i need to come back over there???

**Pidge:** no it’s not like that

**Pidge:** i could kick his ass anyway but no he just keeps trying all these v cheesy pick up lines?? does he think there is a single universe where these will somehow work? lol

**Matt:** maybe he’s just trying to mess with you

**Matt:** or maybe he thinks you’ll find the chaotic dumb energy cute idk

**Pidge:** well if so that’s not working

**Pidge:** also i can’t even tell if he’s joking or what bc i’m stupid and i hate that. tbh for all i know he’s being normal

**Matt:** katie shut up you aren’t stupid!! it’s not your fault you have trouble with social cues, and for what it’s worth you aren’t quite as awkward as you think. besides, the right people will like you the way you are.

**Matt:** … but hey is he cute though

Pidge rolled her eyes, electing to ignore that last part, but her brother was persistent.

**Matt:** pidgeon i asked u a question

**Matt:** if he’s cute can u give him my number

**Pidge:** matthew shut up and find ur own bf

**Pidge:** it’s bc i told u he’s a dumbass isn’t it why are u like this

**Pidge:** i mean he’s not bad looking at all but he’s mildly annoying

**Pidge:** and he definitely gives off big Straight Boy™ energy so i think ur out of luck dude

**Matt:** is he still trying to talk to u?

**Pidge:** yeah so i gotta go rip

**Pidge:** see ya later

**Matt:** love u pidgeon! if he’s a creep pls do kick his ass or i will

**Pidge:** don’t worry he doesn’t seem like that, at least i don’t think so from what my stupid brain can decipher

She glanced back up at the guy— what had he said his name was?— who was now talking excitedly about his plans to become a NASA astronaut, leg bouncing perhaps a hundred times per minute.

_Is this because of my hoodie?_

_ Fair enough. I guess we do have one thing in common._ Pidge was in tenth grade— not sure how old this guy was, she could never tell with anyone, though he seemed around her age— but she’d already known for years what she planned to study in college and beyond. Space was something she’d always been deeply fascinated with, more so than anything else.

“… and I’ll have to get a degree in, like, engineering or something, which’ll be hard, but it’ll be worth it. I wonder if we’ll find alien life— do you believe in aliens?”

“Oh.” It took her a moment to realize he had turned the conversation back to her. “Yeah, of course. I mean, with the vastness of the universe, of course there are things we have yet to find, and it’d honestly be a lot stranger if Earth was the _only_ planet with life. I doubt we’ll really find aliens in the typical sci-fi sense, though— they’ll probably be weirder than that. But hey, who knows, right?”

“Yeah. So I take it you’re interested in—”

“Yes!” she blurted. “I want to study astrophysics and aerospace engineering, and— wait, sorry, I interrupted you.”

“No problem.” He smiled easily. “Damn, that’s ambitious. You must be really smart.”

“Oh, I— uh, I mean, I guess— not really, I…” Pidge never knew how one was supposed to take a compliment.

He laughed. “Maybe you could tutor me sometime. I know I’ll need it.”

She made a noncommittal, non-answering, silence-filling noise of acknowledgement, unsure of what to say.

“So, I’m guessing you’re in high school.”

_Oh, thank god. _She hadn’t wanted to admit that she couldn’t tell whether he was fifteen or twenty-five, but now she had an easy way to ask without looking stupid. “Yeah, I’m a sophomore. What about you?”

“I’m a senior… so, looking at colleges and everything.” He sighed heavily. “Hey, so’s my best friend here,” he added brightly, turning to the guy on the other side of him, who looked slightly queasy. “This is Hunk.”

Hunk leaned forward a bit to wave at her. “Hey, nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you too. I’m Katie, but everyone calls me Pidge.” She had learned that if she didn’t want anyone assuming she was anything but a girl, it was safest to introduce herself as Katie first, then just immediately give her nickname. True, she was pretty sure this guy was already reading her as female, but she still didn’t want to take any chances.

Eighteen months of hormone replacement therapy had begun moving her body a lot closer to what felt right— but she was always considered a tomboy, and while any girl who dressed and acted a bit more masculine might get mistaken for a guy occasionally, it stung a lot more for her. Made her worry that she really looked and sounded like a boy; made her overanalyze everything about her body for weeks to find a problem that might not even be there.

Made her feel, for the millionth time, like she had to change the way she acted to fit in.

With her parents’ support, she’d been able to start taking estrogen at a fairly young age. Still, she hadn’t noticed her dysphoria until puberty began, and the year or so of male puberty she’d had to go through had been a nightmare… and she worried, though she knew it was probably irrational, that even that little bit of time might have had made it difficult to pass.

However, these guys hadn’t given her any weird looks yet, and hadn’t even blinked when she told them her name, so they probably couldn’t tell.

“Nice to meet you, Katie,” the first guy said, smiling a bit sheepishly. “Sorry I didn’t ask your name before— I guess I forgot.”

“Oh, that’s fine. Um, I don’t think I caught your name either.”

“Lance.”

“Lance,” she echoed. “Well, nice to meet both of you.”

Lance looked like he was about to say something else, when someone entered the waiting room and his jaw nearly dropped. Pidge turned her head to look, seeing a guy with a mullet and a cropped jacket making his way over to check in.

Was it his fashion choices that had Lance staring? They didn’t look _that_ weird on him, she thought, but then again, she hardly knew the first thing about style herself.

A moment later, and she got an answer, as Lance turned to hiss, “That’s Keith!” to his friend. Ah, so they had some kind of personal history, presumably a negative one. She hoped it was nothing too terrible.

Lance turned back to her, motioning for her to move in close so he could whisper. She eagerly leaned in to listen. “Keith used to go to our school until he finally got kicked out. I heard he punched a teacher in the face, and knowing him, I believe it. He was a total asshole, always getting into fights and shit, and he probably does worse than we even know about but nobody knows because he’s so creepy and secretive all the time.”

Just some generic high school drama, then, she figured. Gossip. Nothing too personal.

“Honestly, he had it coming for a long time. Thought he was better than everyone— it was awesome to see his ego get taken down a peg.” He paused. “You almost feel bad for the guy, though— I mean, I don’t think he ever transferred or anything, I heard he just dropped out of school entirely. I don’t know if he’s gonna do anything with his life at this point. And I can’t believe he’s still got that stupid mullet.” He laughed.

_Oh._ Well, that was sort of sad— but maybe he deserved it.

Pidge was looking over at the guy as Lance whispered, trying to match the person to the description. It was odd… she could see a kind of bad-boy vibe, but he looked so awkward that she’d never imagine he was that aggressive. He kept asking the receptionist questions about the intake form he had to fill out, things that seemed very obvious from what she could hear. He’d dropped the pen several times, and when he picked it up, he chewed on the end of it, to the obvious annoyance of the woman at the front desk.

When he finally finished, Keith came over and sat down across from Lance, only a few feet left between him and the latter’s glare. Oblivious, he looked around the waiting room.

“So, Keith,” Lance said.

Keith turned to look at him. “What?” His brow furrowed in confusion. “Do I know you?”

“Don’t play dumb.”

“I’m not.”

“You don’t remember me?” he said indignantly. “The name’s Lance. You used to go to my high school— we were like rivals for years!”

“We were?”

“Okay, so clearly he’s being a jerk,” Lance whispered rather loudly to Pidge.

“Oh, wait, I remember you,” Keith said suddenly. “Weren’t you the kid who almost got held back twice?”

“For the record, I was _never_ held back!” he snapped, seeming almost frantic. “I just had a rough year… twice.” With an angry huff, he turned back to Pidge. “See? This is why he got himself kicked out. Always starting shit.”

There was a tense, uneasy silence between the four of them for a long moment.

“So Keith, what are you in for?” Hunk asked with a smile, clearly trying to break the tension. He appeared pretty uncomfortable with the whole situation.

Keith looked confused. “What do you mean?”

“Oh… never mind. I was just joking.”

Looking at Keith as he fiddled intently with his jacket zipper, Pidge wondered if the reason he was here was the same one that had kept him from graduating high school. Was Keith really just an asshole, or did he not know how to interact with his peers? Was he… like her?

——————————

Well, that was a disaster. Hunk was relieved when their group leader came out to collect them… and less relieved when he discovered that said group consisted of the four of them.

“I’m Ryner,” their therapist said once they were seated in a small circle of chairs. “Welcome to our self-esteem support group. Shall we start with introductions? You can tell us your name, and why you’re here, if you’re comfortable.”

There was a pause.

“Okay, I can start,” Lance said, undoubtedly forcing his cool, casual tone. “I’m Lance. I’m just here to try and work on some general confidence stuff, improve myself and whatever, learn mindfulness and stuff, you know.” Hunk noted that he carefully didn’t mention his ADHD, or any of his actual insecurities— even in therapy, he couldn’t seem to let down the facade.

Hunk glanced around awkwardly. “Oh, am— am I next? Sorry.” He laughed nervously. “Okay, uh, my name’s Hunk. And I have, um, anxiety,” he added, giving Lance a look of mild disapproval that went ignored. _If I’m really doing this, you should be too. You promised._

Next was the girl Lance had been bugging in the waiting room while Hunk tried to sink into his chair and pretend they didn’t know each other. He loved his best friend, but the guy could be pretty embarrassing at times. At least she’d seemed to warm up to him once he’d started talking about space, but still. “Hi, I’m Katie, but pretty much everyone calls me Pidge.” Her gaze dropped to the floor, suddenly shy. “I, uh... I was bullied kind of a lot in high school, and middle school... and elementary school, and preschool... and yeah.” She laughed awkwardly. “I guess that kind of messed up my self-esteem. My family’s always been great, but outside of the home I’ve just been, like... the freak. For a bunch of reasons. I’m autistic, so that’s been part of it. And I just... I don’t like myself anymore, I dunno.” Looking up again, she offered a small smile. “But hey, that’s what we’re here for, right?”

Lance smiled dreamily back at her, looking utterly captivated. “Yeah.”

_Oh, boy._ Hunk rolled his eyes internally, but secretly had to admit Pidge seemed like she might be good for his friend. So their introduction had been awkward, but they clearly had a fair amount in common, and maybe it would work out.

Or maybe not, but either way, Pidge seemed really cool. It might be fun to invite her to hang out sometime outside of therapy… if he could work up the nerve to ask without feeling like he was being annoying.

Finally, they got to Keith.

——————————

Earlier that afternoon, a highly reluctant Keith had been dragged out of bed by Adam. “I don’t wanna go.”

“I know. But you’re going.”

“Why do I have to do this anyway?” He sat up, annoyed. “I know Shiro and Ryou need to go, but I’m fine.”

“You aren’t fine.” Adam sat down beside him on the bed. Adam, who’d known Keith for years by virtue of his relationship with Shiro— and who’d taken him in after the twins’ disappearance, despite said relationship having ended months before. He knew all too well how Keith operated, how his depression and anger and fear of abandonment looked, how painful and lonely his childhood had been, even his tendency to try to push people away to avoid further rejection. Apart from the twins, he was the only one who’d persisted in being there for Keith in spite of his many attempts to prevent that.

“I don’t wanna do this. I don’t wanna go talk to a bunch of strangers about how shitty my life is.” Guilt struck him as he said that. “And it’s not even anything compared to what they’re going for— I just feel dumb. This is pointless.”

“Keith, you’re not dumb, and it’s not pointless.” He sighed. “Look, just give it a shot. If you still hate it after three sessions, you can quit.” That was nice. A concrete number. _“But…”_ Oh, that was less nice. “That doesn’t mean we’re going to just give up and ignore what you’re going through. You need to address this.”

“I don’t wanna talk about it! And it’s not your fucking business!” He knew he was being childish and kind of a jerk about it, and felt shame rising in his chest, but he was frustrated. He didn’t want to go, and no one would listen to him.

“It is my fucking business, actually.” Adam gave him a stern but caring look. “That’s what family is for. We’re not trying to torture you, we just want to help.”

“Krolia talks to me again. She said sorry. I’m over it.”

“Don’t try to bullshit me. I know you too well for that.” Unfortunately, he was right. “It’s perfectly understandable that you’re not just ‘over it’ like that. That’s not how this stuff works. And I know it sucks that you have to do something about things you never asked for in the first place, but no one else can do it for you.”

He groaned. “Fine. I’ll do the stupid therapy.”

“Great.”

Suddenly overcome with gratitude— _he’s always there even when I try to make him leave— _Keith nearly tackled Adam in a hug, then pulled away a moment later, vaguely disgusted. Emotions were dangerous territory. Before Adam could say anything else, he ran out of the room.

But that had all been earlier. Now he was actually here.

“I’m Keith,” he told the group now facing him, gaze darting around to avoid eye contact. “So, uh, my family is making me do this.”

“Do you know why?” Ryner asked. “Again, you don’t have to share if—”

“Yeah. I guess I just… I mean, my mom left me when I was little, and my dad died a few years later, and my brothers— well, not technically my brothers, but they sort of adopted me a couple years after my parents were gone— were kidnapped and they were gone for almost a year, and… I guess I keep pushing people away because I don’t want anyone else rejecting me or leaving me, which is shitty because it wasn’t really any of their fault, except my mom, and even she had her reasons, but it still hurt.” He paused for breath. “It’s like I just can’t trust anyone anymore, because I felt like it was my fault when my mom left and everything since feels like—” Suddenly noticing the tears threatening to spill over, he got to his feet abruptly, grabbing his jacket and heading for the door. “Okay, I’m out of here. Fuck this. I can’t do this.” He had stormed through the waiting room and all the way out into the stairwell before it occurred to him to feel guilty.

Ashamed, Keith made his way down to the basement, sitting on the lowest flight of stairs. Hopefully no one would find him here until Shiro and Ryou were done.

He wanted to punch something, but he knew from experience that hitting the wall would be a terrible idea. Broken fingers weren’t fun. Stifling a sob, he buried his face in his hands.

_You fucking idiot. This is why they leave._

_ This is why you weren’t enough to make her stay._

——————————

When Keith began opening up about all that, Pidge had noticed Lance’s surprised expression. Even she could tell that clearly, he hadn’t been aware of all that.

When Keith stormed out of the room, sounding oddly close to tears, her suspicions were confirmed. This guy wasn’t just a jerk for no reason, he had some serious issues. No wonder he acted out.

Leaping out of her seat, she followed him before anyone could protest.

_Where would he go?_ Scanning the hallway, she saw no trace of him. _Elevator or stairs?_

_ Stairs. If I were running away from people, and I were as athletic as he looks, the stairs would be faster._

Pidge made her way down to the first floor, and was about to step out to look for him there when she heard a muffled sob below her.

Curious, she turned around, making her way quietly down the last flight of stairs to find Keith hunched over at the bottom of the steps, shoulders shaking.

“Hey.”

He whirled around, a wild expression in his eyes.

“It’s okay! It’s just me. I just wanted to see how you’re doing.”

Anger fading, he looked defeated. “I’m fine.”

“You’re crying.” She sat down beside him. “Hey, you can talk to me.”

Silence. He glared at the floor.

“You know, Lance wouldn’t be such a jerk to you if he’d known. I mean, I don’t know what kind of history you guys have, but… he looked like he felt bad when you ran out.”

Keith groaned. “Fuck. I don’t need everyone pitying me.”

Pidge wasn’t sure what to say to that, and was contemplating whether it would be better for her to just leave him alone. She might make things worse.

“I told myself I wasn’t gonna cry.”

“Well, it’s okay to cry sometimes.”

He didn’t respond.

“I guess we should probably head back now.”

“You go ahead. I can’t do this right now.”

“Oh. Okay.” Standing, she felt a twinge of guilt. Had she made him more upset with her awkwardness? She never did know how to comfort people. “I’m sorry.”

“Wait.” He looked up at her. Though he still wasn’t seeking eye contact, a fact she was grateful for, he smiled faintly. “Don’t apologize. Thank you.”

“Oh. You’re welcome.” She returned his smile for a moment, then headed back upstairs to rejoin the group.

——————————

After their chaotic first session, Lance made his way dejectedly to the car alongside Hunk. Not only had he let his best friend down, but he’d been an asshole to Keith— in his defense, he hadn’t known, but still— and looked like the bad guy in front of Pidge. They’d probably talked about him when she went to find Keith, and she probably hated him now. Even Ryner must be annoyed that he seemed to be there for no real reason. He’d just thoroughly disappointed everyone in that room in a single hour. _Nice going, Lance._

“You okay, buddy?” Hunk asked as he started the car.

“Yeah.” He forced a smile.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah. Sorry I didn’t talk much yet.”

“It’s okay.”

“It’s not.”

“Really, it is. I know it’s hard. I’m sorry for pushing you, dude.”

“I agreed to it.”

“True.”

“Sorry.”

“Really, man. It’s not that big of a deal, I promise.” Hunk put on the radio, and they didn’t talk much for the rest of the car ride. Lance couldn’t shake the feeling of failure.

When they got home, he grabbed the blade hidden at the bottom of his underwear drawer and holed himself up in the bathroom for about twenty minutes, crying silently and punishing himself. Then he dried his eyes, came out with a smile on his face, lounged on the couch for a bit watching TV, and pestered Hunk into coming with him to a party that night.

Lance figured a coping mechanism was a coping mechanism, whether it was considered a healthy one or not. At least it worked, and he was feeling better already. Honestly, he was doing great most of the time, he really was.

He’d keep going to this self-esteem thing for Hunk, though— it would be shitty to leave his anxious friend alone when it was no problem for him to come along.

He still felt like a disappointment, but that night he got drunk enough to forget it, if only for a little while. Then in the morning he woke up late in some girl’s bed, hungover, to the crushing feeling of wasted time and bad decisions. _Idiot._

Lance scrambled to get dressed and out the door, and ultimately strolled casually into his third class twenty-five minutes late like he didn’t care. Iverson yelled at him, but he tried not to panic in front of everyone.

He was a slacker, after all. It wasn’t a big deal to him. It wasn’t like he tried, really hard, for years and years on end, and couldn’t seem to get things right. He was just lazy. That was it.


End file.
